


if you look for truthfulness (you might as well be blind)

by overtureenvelops



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:06:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5822656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overtureenvelops/pseuds/overtureenvelops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If she's being honest, she's falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you look for truthfulness (you might as well be blind)

**Author's Note:**

> half cat character study, half fluffy developing relationship goodness. sound good? good.
> 
> also, this is totally unbeta'd and mostly written during the early morning hours. i don't understand commas and all mistakes are my own. pretend it's abstract art or something. idk.
> 
> ooh!!! and another thing. for the sake of the fic, let's just pretend that the whole Supergirl/J'onn J'onzz switcharoo didn't happen. hell knows i do. okay, great. enjoy!!

i.

If she's being honest, she hasn't slept through the night since the day Carter was born—hasn't slept deeply since the moment he was first placed in her arms, back when he was a tiny, wailing bundle of possibility.

The moment their eyes first met, Cat was immediately taken with the tangibleness of her son's existence and, suddenly, she began to feel the weight of her own. She had fallen in love in the blink of an eye, without question or regret, and although she was terrified she was put at peace by the sound of his breathing, the smell of his baby soft hair, the way his lips curved naturally at the corners, happy to be alive. 

Looking at Carter she saw her greatest creation, a better accomplishment than any article or television segment or media empire she had ever created. In her arms was the purest form of perfection, overwhelming to her every sense and captivating as any news breaking story. 

The easiest part, Cat decided, was here. It was this moment of them together, mother and son against the world. She could do this, she quickly resolved, and she would. She would be the best mother there ever was—better than her own, at least. 

She would have it all. 

Or, well, she would _try_ to have it all. And when she couldn't have absolutely everything, when she couldn't handle both Carter's colic _and_ the presidential election, when she couldn't get to Metropolis for a book signing and be home in time for a parent teacher conference, she would choose her son every time.

The thing that people don't give her credit for is her motherly sacrifice. Not that she minds—she would much rather be called the Ice Queen a million times if it meant keeping Carter out of the papers—but she’s given up opportunities that Lois Lane could only ever dream of, and yet she can’t bring herself to regret a thing.

Sure, she doesn’t have it all (soon, she realizes, no one does), but she has what she needs. She has her son. 

If she’s being honest, she would sacrifice it all again in a heartbeat.

 

ii.

Cat has been worried from the moment Carter was born, known he was different since before he could stand on his own two feet, knew he would deal with other people's impatience and judgement and prejudice when all he asked for was love and understanding.

Cat loves fiercely and has shown it in the form of vengeance against bully after bully. She has torn the reputation of opposing parents to shreds, reported misfit teachers without batting an eye, threatened the existence of entire school boards and launched rallying campaigns against the cruelty her son has had to endure for simply being who he was born to be. 

She would do it again and again and again, thoughtlessly and with ease, because her baby is nothing but beautiful, nothing but kind, nothing but perfect just the way he is, and she will gladly fight anyone who tells her differently with more strength than even Supergirl herself could imagine. 

Over time, Cat has exhausted herself, worked tirelessly day in and day out to give Carter his best chance, a life that they could both be proud of—just like she tried to give Adam all those years ago, just like, she comes to learn, Kara's parents did for her. 

Kara. 

The meek assistant that suddenly takes residence in Cat's thoughts, begins to make the corners of her lips curve with affection, somehow weasels her way into their lives hidden under the guise of glasses and cardigans and Settlers of Catan matches. 

Kara, who naturally bends to Carter's eye level, speaks to him gently and with a smile, ruffles his hair and laughs at his jokes as if she has been doing so his entire life. Kara is patient and she is kind and she is everything the world has not yet shown him, and Cat wishes she could find the words to say thank you.

She realizes, also, that the smile Carter has previously reserved only for her soon stretches to include Kara, and she briefly dwells on why it doesn't bother her the way it should. 

If she's being honest, she's falling in love. 

 

iii.

So Kara is Supergirl. So she is one and the same as the hero that has taken residence as the main topic of conversation at the dinner table, the homework session, the morning goodbye as Carter leaves for school.

Cat sleeps even less now, her nights reserved for worry about Kara and the gnawing feeling of guilt that settles in the back of her mind. She is full of nervous energy, glued to the news cycle, her belly filled with fear every time a story about Supergirl breaks. The dark circles under her eyes are growing more pronounced, and she's not sure how much longer she can live this way.

It’s because of this that she looks into Kara’s eyes and tells her to quit. If she’s being honest, she’s not sure whether she’s trying to save the lives of others or just trying to save her own. Either way she cannot—will not—allow her son or National City to lose their hero simply because of her own ridiculous demands.

So once again, Cat sacrifices. She gives up the girl she’s come to love, and although the tears in Kara’s eyes make her heart clench, she will not be responsible for the loss of innocent lives. She will not be responsible for the loss of Kara’s.

That’s the mantra she repeats, anyway, until Carter walks into her office, holding the diorama they had stayed up late to build the night before. He is smiling from ear to ear, up on the tips of his toes and eager to show the girl that is now nowhere to be found, and Cat’s stomach drops.

With a hand cupping his cheek she tells him Kara had to go, that she was offered a job elsewhere and that she decided to take it, that she will no longer be in their lives. What she doesn’t tell him is that she delivered Kara an unfair ultimatum, that she ripped the illusion of normalcy right out of her grasp, that she is gone because she didn’t give her the choice to stay.

It’s as Carter’s shoulders droop, as his smile disappears, as she watches him once again retreat into himself that she realizes the enormity of what she’s done.

If she’s being honest, she’s made a huge mistake.

 

iv.

Kara has a sister.

Cat read so in her file when she glanced at it during her lunch (and her dinner, and before bed, and again at 3am, awake and filled with regret). Now, in the early morning hours and alone with her thoughts, she thinks about Kara’s childhood. Wonders briefly what it would be like to arrive in a world where everything was different than you were used to, a world where nothing made sense.

She wonders if this is how Carter feels every day of his life, if this is why he and Kara get along so well—because they both feel inherently alien.

It doesn’t matter much now, though. Kara is gone, off to carry the world’s weight on her shoulders because Cat didn’t give her a choice in the matter. She is gone, and Cat is laying awake wanting her back. Not just to deliver her morning latte or the minutes on last week’s budget meeting, but for her calming presence. The way she soothes every situation, solves every problem and hears every plea. Cat has come to realize that Kara is a superhero in more than one sense of the word.

She is suddenly tempted to call Alex Danvers. She would know where Kara was and could apologize—Jesus Christ. When did she become this person? Someone who begs on her hands and knees for forgiveness? Unacceptable, Cat thinks, that she is suddenly incapable of moving on. If she could have any superpower, she decides, it would be to stop having feelings. It would certainly get her out of a lot of the current predicaments she finds herself in.

For the millionth time in many years Cat wishes she could sleep, maybe now more than ever. Tomorrow she will have to search for another assistant, dodging questions about what happened to her old one. She will have to pretend to remain neutral and unaffected when she feels torn in two places.

Tonight is not yet tomorrow, though, and instead of tossing and turning she will get up and check on Carter, watch until she is sure the blanket covering his chest rises and falls steadily. She will make sure his backpack is hanging on the hook by the door, ensure that the straps are even and the books inside are not bent, checking for permission slips and class announcements.

She will pull the blanket up to his chin, kiss him on the forehead and whisper an apology. She is sorry. She is sorry that the world is cruel, sorry that he is misunderstood, sorry that she had to panic and drive away one of the best people to come into their lives in years. Carter will not hear or remember this apology, but for now it brings Cat some semblance of peace.

Peace because it’s in this moment that she decides to rectify her mistake, to get Kara back even if it kills her. Because as much as Cat doesn’t want to admit it, she’s in love with her. In love with the way she blushes and giggles and trips over her words, in love with the way she saves cities and lives and somehow still remembers her lunch order, in love with how they no longer need words to communicate.

In love with the way she loves her son.

If she’s being honest, she would move heaven and earth just to get Kara back.

 

v.

The first thing Cat thinks when she sees Kara again, weeks later, is that she looks tired. To anyone else she would look perfect, standing confidently on the office balcony with her hands on her hips and her hair practically glowing in the setting sun, but Cat knows her better than that. She sees the way her shoulders slump in subtle exhaustion, how her fingernails are bitten down to the quick, how the light usually present in her eyes is now dim.

Cat bites at her bottom lip, because it’s her fault, and even now with Kara in front of her she can’t find the words to sum up her feelings. She’s a writer, a damn good one, and yet she can’t form a coherent sentence in the presence of the young woman that has turned her life upside down.

“Carter misses you,” she finally says. It’s a copout, she knows, and she screams internally at herself.

Kara nods, unaware of Cat’s internal battle. “Yeah, I miss him too,” the sounds of the city fill in the void of conversation and Kara scuffs her boot on the pavement. “Are you sleeping alright?” she asks.

Cat scoffs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “No. Not really,” and she tries to gather the guts to continue. “Listen, Kiera,” she starts, “I need to…apologize.”

“Ms. Grant—“

Cat raises a hand, “Just. Let me say this,” and Kara nods earnestly in response. “When I told you to go, I—I was being…stupid. Ridiculous. I didn’t give you a chance to explain, and I didn’t even _try_ to listen to you,” she swallows, her mouth suddenly dry. "After some thinking I realize that…well, I was unfair. And cruel. And I’m sorry.”

Kara doesn’t speak, and Cat briefly wonders if she has said something wrong. She opens her mouth to explain, but before she can Kara replies, almost in a whisper.

“You were right to let me go.” 

Cat’s mouth closes with a click, brow furrowing in confusion. “Pardon?”

Kara shrugs. “Maybe not in the way you handled it, not in your reasoning, but being away from you—from the office—" Kara hurries to correct, “It’s helped me clear my head. Think about some things.”

Cat is at a loss for words, brow furrowing and lips parting in confusion. “To be honest, Kara, I don’t—” Cat shrugs, looking to the National City skyline and then back to the girl in front of her. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Me neither.”

They stand in silence for a moment, and Cat shivers, a chill settling into her bones as the sun disappears behind the horizon. She crosses her arms in front of her and looks to her feet.

“Can I—“ 

“Will you—“ they say in unison.

“Sorry,” Kara says. “You go first.”

Cat clears her throat. “I was going to say that the job is yours. If you want it back, that is,” Kara doesn’t respond immediately, causing Cat to panic and add, “My new assistant is fantastic, you know. They’re a wonderful copy editor and a very snappy dresser…you could learn a few things from them, actually, but I suppose if your heart’s set on—“

“Ms. Grant,” Kara stops her. “I would love to come back. If you’ll have me.”

Cat bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling, and sighs for effect. “Fine then, you’ll have to go see Andrea in HR tomorrow morning. Oh, and have the latest proofs and a latte on my desk by 9.”

“Yes, Ms. Grant,” Kara beams at her, the twinkle in her eyes back in full force. Her mouth is open to say something else when sirens sound in the distance.

“You’re being paged,” Cat says knowingly, and she turns, ready to head back into her office. Something stops her. “Kara—“

By the time she turns back around, the girl is gone. She sighs, in relief or disappointment she does not know.

If she’s being honest, she has no idea what the hell she’s doing.

 

vi.

Kara is back the next day, cardigans and all, and Cat wonders how she functioned without her. She finds herself looking up to make sure her assistant is still there, to remind herself the talk they had the night before wasn’t something she had just imagined.

Things are different now. For one, when Kara disappears for any length of time she is automatically excused. Cat covers for her, and when she returns she hands her perfume to cover for the scent of sulfur, calls her into her office to subtly wipe at the ash on her cheek, sends her an IM to fix her collar so her suit isn’t exposed. 

The shy smiles and hidden blushes are a change, too, and Cat is equal parts elated and annoyed. Suddenly the mere sight of Kara causes her to trip over her words, lose focus and get distracted enough to excuse mediocre work from her employees. What’s worse is that she can’t bring herself to care. She’s gotten sloppy with her emotions, feelings popping up from nowhere and, frankly, it’s annoying as hell.

It's after lunch and Kara’s been MIA for almost an hour, most likely out Supergirling, and Cat is starting to let herself relax. She’s threatened to boot two of her staff and is feeling much more like herself, focussed on going over the proofs for Friday’s edition, when she feels the air change and looks to the window in curiosity.

Oddly enough it’s not Kara, and is instead some leggy brunette with a tacky white extension. “Can I help you?” Cat asks, trying her best to sound disinterested as her finger hovers over the panic button beneath her desk.

“This is where my niece works, is it not?” the woman says, chin in the air.

Cat leans back in her seat, twirling her pen between her fingers. “I have over 20,000 employees. You’ll have to be more specific.”

The woman crosses the threshold, hands clasped behind her back. “Kara Zor-El. Your people call her Supergirl.”

Cat’s eyes dart to her office doors, which are fortunately closed, and then looks back to the brunette. “Yes, Kara works here.”

“You will give her a message.”

“You're not of this earth so I'll let it pass,” Cat says as she stands, her hand ghosting the top of her desk, “But I don't take orders. Especially from people who get too excited with dollar store hair dye."

Suddenly the woman is inches from her face, teeth barred and hand grasping at her throat, lifting her a few inches into the air. “I urge you not to challenge my authority,” she growls.

If she didn’t need oxygen so badly, Cat would continue to hold out, but unfortunately such is not the case, and so she nods and is quickly let go, dropping to the floor. She coughs, standing and straightening her skirt, and looks into the bullpen. She makes eye contact with Witt, Wince, Winn—whatever his name is—and he nods like he’s heard her silent calls for help, rushing out of her line of vision as she turns back to Kara’s aunt in front of her.

“What can I do for you then, your majesty?” Cat asks hoarsely, rubbing at her throat.

Ignoring her snark, the woman continues. “Tell my niece I will no longer hold back my army’s efforts. If she wants a war, a war she will have,” she turns toward the balcony doors, walking with purpose and calling over her shoulder, "Consider me sparing your life an act of courtesy."

Cat’s eyes narrow, trying to digest the information she’s come in contact with, but before she can ask any questions the woman is gone, a rush of wind disrupting the peace and organization that used to be her office. 

She is left with an aching throat and shaking hands as James and Winn rush through the doors. “Ms. Grant, are you alright?” James questions, fingers resting on the watch he wears.

“Fine,” she utters as she sits back down, shaking her head to bring herself out of her haze. She looks up to the boys, faces of concern flashing back at her. “Well? Can someone get me a Ricola, for God’s sake?”

With that the two take their cue to leave, and as the doors close behind them she lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

If she’s being honest, she’s never been so scared in her life.

 

vii.

She calls her personal shopper to have some scarves left at her loft for when she gets home. The bruising is fairly severe, and after waving James off about going to the hospital she wants to make sure Carter doesn’t see the injuries. Luckily he’s with his father for the night and Cat will have the house to herself—she’s not sure whether this fact is fortunate or terrifying.

What she’s not expecting when she arrives home is Kara sitting outside her door, head in her hands and sitting on the ground, glasses nowhere to be found and her hair down over her shoulders. It’s odd, Cat thinks, to see Supergirl wearing Kara’s clothes.

Cat goes to clear her throat but feels a pinch of pain and quickly decides against it, instead bending down to lay a hand on Kara’s shoulder. The girl’s head shoots up, eyes widening as she takes in the blue and purple that is Cat's neck.

“Oh, _Cat_ ,” she breathes, and her fingers are tracing the outline of where her aunt’s hands laid only hours ago. Cat winces, but allows it, goosebumps raising on her skin. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Cat says adamantly, standing and holding her hand out for Kara to take. “Come inside.” 

Kara grabs the offered hand, pulling herself up, and Cat goes to unlock the door with the other. By the time they are inside, they are still connected at the palm.

“Scarves?” Kara asks as she sees a box of Hermès on the front table.

“Mm.” Cat hums in acknowledgment as she steps out of her heels and looks over her mail. "Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Ms. Grant, I really do need to apologize for—“

“I could use a drink,” Cat interjects, disconnecting herself from Kara and heading for the kitchen, bare feet padding on the hardwood. “Do you want anything?” she asks as she pulls a wine glass from the cabinet.

“No, thank you,” Kara sits, hands folded on the countertop. "Ms. Grant, please just let me—“

“Kara,” Cat whispers, exasperated as she sets her glass on the countertop and lays her hands on top of Kara’s. "Stop.”

“But I—“

“That wasn’t a request.” 

Brown eyes bare into blue, a silent plea, and Kara bites at her lip and nods. Cat goes back to pouring herself a glass of red and mumbles, “Living room,” as she walks out of the kitchen and towards the couch. Kara follows, quiet and dejected.

They both sit, close but not too close, and Cat takes a deep breath as she takes her first sip, eyes slipping closed at the calm.

“So, your aunt,” Cat starts after a beat, “And I thought _my_ family was dysfunctional.”

Kara brushes her hair behind her ear, looking down at her hands in her lap. “Yeah, Astra is a handful.”

Cat nearly chokes on her wine. “Astra? What, Judy Jetson was already taken?” at Kara’s blank look of confusion she adds, “Oh, right. Alien. Continue.”

“I really am sorry, for what she did to you. I should have been there—“

“You were out saving the world. You get a free pass for this one.” 

“—It’s like whenever someone I care about needs saving I’m not there.”

Cat brings a hand beneath her chin and tilts up gently. “Stop. Don’t do this to yourself. Even Supergirl can’t be in two places at once, Kara. It’s physics.”

Her voice trails off, and their faces are close together. Kara’s eyes are big and Cat’s hand is stroking her cheek mindlessly, offering her a smile that is usually reserved only for her son—a look of love.

Kara smiles back, and she leans forward without thinking about it, pressing their foreheads together. Their breath is mingling and the silence is full questions. 

“Can I—“ Kara begins to ask, eyes closed, and Cat just nods against her in response.

They kiss tentatively, and Cat’s wine is forgotten, the bruising around her throat nothing but a memory. Shaking hands move from the tops of her thighs to her face, and they are hurried and wonderful and full of fire. Cat sighs happily into Kara’s mouth, because this is reality and she’s shrugging her jacket off and tangling her hands in Kara’s hair and pulling her closer.

“Should we maybe—I don’t know where—“ Kara says in between kisses, and Cat hadn’t noticed her dress was unzipped until now.

“Follow me,” Cat whispers against her lips, and she pulls Kara by the hand down the hallway and into the bedroom, smiling like she hasn’t in years.

If she’s being honest, she won’t last long.

 

viii.

When they tell Carter, he practically jumps for joy, his excitement obvious as he asks how long they’ve been together and who will live where and and if they can make Fridays the official game night. Cat wishes she could be annoyed, but she is far too content and horribly distracted by Kara’s legs as she sits by the kitchen counter.

They’ve decided to save the Supergirl talk for another day, aiming to keep Carter’s head from exploding, and resolve to live their lives as normal. The only difference, Kara whispers in her ear with a blush, is that now they’ve seen each other naked (which, consequently, results in a shared shower that makes them both 40 minutes late to work).

They soon arrive, pretending they didn’t come from the same place, and everything is business as usual. They work, Kara's Supergirling kept to a minimum for the day, and if anyone notices the lingering touches and meaningful glances shared between them, they don't say anything.

Later, they go back to Cat’s for dinner with Carter, listening to stories from his day until he yawns and is sent to bed. They say goodnight and then proceed to fall asleep on the couch, Cat’s feet in Kara’s lap and the sounds of the 11 o’clock news in the background. In the early morning hours Kara will carry Cat to bed as if handling the most precious work of art, and she will lie awake beside her taking in the quietness of the moment.

When Cat wakes, Kara will be holding her like a lifeline, eyes closed and breathing steady. She will turn off her alarm, content to be late to work if it means one more minute in Kara’s arms.

If she’s being honest, she could get used to this.

 

ix.

What she can’t get used to is the late night phone calls from Alex, the Department of Who the Hell Cares paging Kara at the worst possible moments, the way that every siren, every shake of the earth makes her heart jump in the worst way.

She had assumed that things would be solved once Kara was back at the office, convinced that if they were together she would finally be able to relax. Turns out that dating Supergirl is giving her an ulcer, or so her doctor tells her, and so she lays awake again, this time waiting for the source of her worry to return home safe.

She waits and waits, twiddling her thumbs and basking in the glow of late night television, trying to calm the sea of panic that is starting to settle in the pit of her stomach. Something’s not right, and she can feel it as she fills Kara’s voicemail box with message after message. All she needs is a one word response and she will let it go, but instead there’s nothing but radio silence, and for a moment she wonders how to get her hands on one of those superhero pagers that James has.

The phone rings at a quarter past 4 and she scrambles to answer it, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

“Ms. Grant?” a voice sounds from the other end, “This is Alex. Alex Danvers, Kara’s sister?”

“Where is she?” Cat replies, panic seeping into her tone.

“She’s here at the DEO, getting treated for injuries she sustained during a pretty brutal fight earlier. She’ll be fine, but she wouldn’t accept treatment until we called you.”

Cat rubs at her forehead, her exhaustion catching up with her. “ _Idiot_ ,” she mumbles under breath.

“The biggest,” Alex agrees. “Look, Ms. Grant, I don’t know you, but Kara seems to care about you, so…if you want to come in, or have me call you with updates I can—“

At this, Cat sits up. “I’ll have my driver bring me. Where—“

“I’m afraid your driver will have to stay there,” Alex interrupts. “But I’ll arrange for someone to come get you.”

“Very well,” Cat sniffs, wincing at the formality, and earnestly adds a quiet, “Thank you very much, Alex.”

“She’ll be alright, Ms. Grant.” Alex assures as they end the call, and soon Cat is alone again, phone clutched in her hands as she sends up a prayer to whoever might be listening.

If she’s being honest, as soon as she knows Kara’s alright, she’s going to kill her.

 

x.

Just like Alex promised, Kara is soon back to full superhuman health and they are home again. Cat is cordial and curt and upset for reasons that she cannot place, exhausted beyond belief and stiff from the uninviting furnishings of the DEO waiting area.

“You can’t do this, Kara,” she says angrily, wiping down the already spotless counter. “You have people who depend on you now. Carter—God, what would I have told him if you died today?”

“I didn’t die, Cat,” Kara responds with hands in the air as if the notion is ridiculous.

“But you _could have_ , and I can’t—“ her voices catches in her throat as she holds onto the edge of the counter with white knuckles. Once again she’s lost for words as tears prick at the back of her eyes.

Kara’s arms fall to her sides, and she moves to stand behind her, arms wrapping around her waist and chin resting on her shoulder..

“I’m so tired,” Cat says, letting out a sob.

Kara just rocks her side to side, “I know.”

“You _have_ to be more careful,” Cat sniffs, breaths shallow as tears continue to fall. "Will you at least try? Please?”

“Okay.”

“ _Kara_.” she says, voice breaking, and she hates everything about this moment.

“I will be careful,” Kara promises, and she kisses Cat’s temple to seal the deal.

“Uh, you guys okay?” Carter's sleepy voice sounds from the doorway, and the pair pulls apart as Cat hastily wipes at her eyes.

“Yes, darling,” Cat responds, a faux smile settling on her lips. "We’re alright.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but nods anyway and sets his backpack down, pulling his shoes on and concentrating on tying one lace over the other.

“Half day today, right bud?” Kara asks him, patting Cat on the hip and turning to grab a cereal box from the cupboard.

“Yeah. Why?"

Kara shrugs, pouring a bowl of Frosted Flakes and pushing it over to him, “I dunno, just thought we could hang out this afternoon. Maybe catch a movie?”

“Don’t you have work?” he asks, mouth already full of cereal.

“Mm, I’m not feeling much like work today,” she says as she leans in, lowering her voice. "Plus, something tells me my boss will be super understanding about spending the day with you.” 

Carter looks expectantly to his mother, who has now recovered from her breakdown and is sipping at a cup of coffee. She rolls her puffy eyes. “I _suppose_ I can live without my assistant for a few hours.”

Kara pumps her fist in victory, making Carter laugh and Cat shake her head in annoyance. “You’re both children.” she says, hiding behind her cup.

“C’mon, Carter,” Kara says, ignoring her. "I’ll drop you off."

Carter hops off the stool, pulling on his backpack and hugging Cat briefly before heading for the door. “Bye, Mom! Love you!” 

Kara grabs the keys Cat rarely uses and spins back around to give her a kiss. “Love you,” she says against her lips, and she means it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Cat replies, and soon the two are gone, leaving her alone in the stillness of the empty house. She runs her finger around the lip of her mug, lost in thought.

Thinking for a moment, she decides the office can survive without her for a day, and she texts Kara to come back to the loft after dropping Carter off.  _I have some things that require your immediate attention_ , she types, and smirks as she takes another sip of coffee.

If she’s being honest, a mental health day is far overdue.

 

xi.

Time passes, as it seems to do for whatever reason, and life goes on. Days turn to weeks turn to months, and the three of them build a life together. 

Kara moves from the assistant desk to a junior editing position, Cat insisting it’s only because she misses Charlie and their fabulous outfits. If she’s being honest, though, Kara deserves it, and she takes to it like a fish to water.

They dub Kara’s old apartment ‘The Lair’, saved only for special Supergirl emergencies, and soon Kara’s cardigans make their way to share the closet with Cat’s couture (and if some of them disappear during the move never to be heard from again, Cat certainly has nothing to do with it). One day Alex hands Cat her own direct line to the DEO in case of emergency, Cat smiling gratefully, and just like that their life together has officially begun.

Carter is happier than Cat has ever seen him, his time filled with making friends at school and going for flights with Kara, something that terrifies Cat but her better half assures is perfectly safe. She rolls her eyes and hesitantly agrees, watching them take off into the night sky and letting the sounds of her son’s unbridled laughter wash over her.

It’s an amazing thing, she thinks, that after all the sacrifice, the sleepless nights and the never-ending worry, that she can stand in the evening breeze and feel well and truly _happy_.

Such is the case, too, later that night as she dozes on and off with an arm around her waist and a nose in the crook of her neck, Kara fast asleep beside her. Soon she too will fall into unconsciousness, sleeping more soundly than she has since she first felt the weight of her baby boy in her arms.

She will wake to kisses on her eyelids and the feeling of contentment in her bones, and when the sun rises Carter will ask for pancakes. She will readily comply, adding flour to sugar to eggs as she listens to the sounds of her family, her makeshift queendom, filled to the brim with truth and honesty and her two greatest loves. 

For now, though, she will close her eyes, a content smile making its way across her features as she lays a soft kiss to Kara’s temple, burrowing deep into her safety. She really does have it all, she realizes, and soon the sounds of Kara’s steady breathing lull her to sleep.

If she’s being honest, she’s never been happier (and now she sleeps through the night).


End file.
